


Art / Words: Our scars will reveal the truth (The Heal Remix)

by LFB72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Art, Body Image, Camelot Remix, Canon Era, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Episode: s01e13 Le Morte D'Arthur, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kissing It Better, M/M, Minor Injuries, Remix, Reveal, Scars, Secrets, Shyness, Traditional Media, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-03-19 22:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18979582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72
Summary: Camelot remix entry chapter one: Words with embedded artchapter two art only.To kiss a hurt away. Arthur is watching Merlin sleep after the Questing Beast incident. He sees the scar left by Nimueh and bends down to take a closer look, but Merlin wakes up and Arthur has to explain what he was doing.





	1. Art/Words: Our scars will reveal the truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arthur_pendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/gifts).
  * Inspired by [#3 Heal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881430) by [arthur_pendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon). 



> I was a little bit terrified when Arthur_Pendragon’s name got pulled out of the hat. They are so highly regarded in the fandom and have such talented people gifting them with art and fic that it was a little daunting to fulfill the task at hand.  
> Arthur_Pendragon had so many lovely fics and to dabble almost feels like walking on hallowed ground; it was difficult to choose but this was inspired by a small but beautifully effective scar-based drabble that I loved and wanted to expand on a little.  
> I hope I have kept to the essence of your story and you enjoy the art. I know you wanted your Harry Potter one to be remixed but I think that would be better in different and more skilled hands than my own.  
> Thanks to my wonderful art and word betas who gave up their precious time to help me. I could not do this without their skill and expertise.

 

[ ](https://imgur.com/kdJWYVi)

 

**Our Scars Will Reveal the Truth**

Arthur leans on the wall to catch his breath. The stone is hard and cold, but rather than move away he sinks against the chilled surface, letting it soothe his throbbing shoulder. The injury he sustained from the Questing Beast is still painful, even though healing well; by all accounts, to have survived at all is nothing short of a miracle. He will carry a scar, of course, but there is no shame in it; to a knight, there is honour in the mark that means he survived. He is alive, but the creature that tried to kill him is not.

When Uther learnt of his son’s impending demise, it had finally made Arthur a perfect son in the king’s eyes — a feat he’d failed at most of his life. The doomsayers were wrong; the prince did not die. With the danger now receding, his father’s unconditional love also wanes but like the last few vestiges of autumn sun, he is determined to enjoy it while it lasts.

He is told the people of Camelot held midnight vigils in his honour, but he cannot recall such things. He does remember some events though, such as servants who whispered truths to a prince they thought could not hear.

To have been so close to death makes Arthur appreciate his life, which is one of the reasons he is going against the physician’s orders by roaming the castle corridors so late at night. Gaius had taken an unscheduled leave of absence shortly after Arthur’s recovery, thus is not around to enforce such rules, and posting guards outside Arthur’s door is hardly a deterrent to such a skilled and seasoned warrior.

Gaius was not the only one who went missing; Merlin had also vanished. The unexplained disappearance of his servant is not a new phenomenon, but on the back of such a strange and loaded conversation only a few days previously, it has been causing him some concern (not that Arthur would ever admit that he was worried or distraught at the possibility that Merlin may have been thinking of leaving or doing something equally stupid).

Arthur has not slept well over the last couple of nights which is all Merlin’s fault. His routine is upset and even if the replacement servant is the personification of efficiency, it’s not the same, it’s not the way it should be.

Merlin’s absence had made Arthur restless and grumpy, although those close to him would have likely assumed it was due to his recent adventure with the Questing Beast. After Arthur had snapped at Leon during that evening’s update on the knights’ training regime, Leon had let slip that the physician and his servant had finally returned. Arthur had done his best to look nonchalant about the news, yet no sooner had the door shut behind the curly-haired knight than Arthur had sprung to his feet, ready to investigate.

In addition to his injury slowing him down, Arthur has to duck into alcoves and behind suits of armour to avoid the guards. It takes longer than it should have to reach the physician’s chambers. Arthur welcomes a rest before opening the door, gently so as not to disturb Gaius, whose raucous snores are a thing of legend and can be clearly heard out in the corridor.

Arthur travels with practised stealth across the open space and up the stairs to Merlin’s room. He puts his hand on the latch, a firm, even pressure minimising the noise, and lets the door swing open.

 

[ ](https://imgur.com/whSso9Q)

 

Merlin is asleep, and the sight is arresting. His head lies on the pillow, tufts of black hair spreading out like droplets of water hitting ink on parchment. Merlin’s neck lolls to the side, his lips slack and open, and Arthur watches flickers of movement under the closed lids and sooty lashes. Tearing his gaze from Merlin’s face, he observes the bare limbs that poke out from beneath the blanket.

Merlin always covers up, always. Arthur has even teased him about it in the past. He knows Merlin is shy and sensitive about his appearance, but in reality he has no need to be. It is true that Arthur has only ever glimpsed a sliver of flesh when Merlin’s tunic happens to ride up, but there is no denying he would like to see more. On the rare occasions that Merlin forgets to wear that rag around his neck, revealing a tantalising triangle of creamy white skin or a portion of exposed collarbone, Arthur often has to resort to shouting and throwing things at Merlin to hide his interest.

He is not expecting Merlin to be showing such an expanse of naked flesh as he sleeps, nor the huge welt that mars the front of Merlin’s chest.

A burn.

A bloody _burn_ , that's what it looks like; raised, red skin, scorched and stretched taut over his chest and blistering in places.

The mark is large and circular in nature, and, more disturbingly, it’s recent. The faint bruises around the edges suggest it is days old at most and whatever caused it did so with considerable force.

Arthur’s fingers curl into fists, and he steps closer to examine the damage. It looks painful. For all the power being a prince brings him, there is nothing he can do here. He knows how to temporarily patch up soldiers on the battlefield — they all do. Knights have an expectation that they will get hurt at some point, and they are taught to deal with it until a physician can take over. But _who_ heals the physician? Or, in this case, the physician's apprentice? Merlin is a servant, for goodness’ sake, how has he ended up in this state?

Merlin has followed him into danger numerous times, unquestioned, untrained and unarmed, and always emerged without a scratch. It was Merlin who dragged his bloodied and battered body from the cave where the Questing Beast attacked. Merlin may vanish unexpectedly, but he’s always there for Arthur when it matters. If there were a way for Arthur to make Merlin better, he would do it. He would do anything.

Then he’s struck by a sudden, uncontrollable urge. What was that silly saying he’d heard Merlin use? ‘Kisses heal hurts.’ It is a totally ludicrous notion, but no one would ever know, and what harm could it do?

Mind made up, Arthur bends lower. Merlin’s bed is so much smaller than his own that he's forced to crouch, and almost stumbles over an ancient tome that is lying on the floor. Stifling a curse, he freezes, but Merlin doesn't stir. Letting out his breath, Arthur checks for other obstacles, sliding a discarded tunic out of the way with his foot. He starts again; flexing forward, he carefully peels Merlin's blanket down a fraction. He is so close now his breath is moving the sparse black hairs that cover Merlin's chest, and he licks his lips. He'll have to be quick.

Bang! In his haste, he whacks his knee on the frame of the cot, this time disturbing the occupant.

Merlin’s eyes fly open, wide and feral.

“Arthur?!”

The prince launches himself backwards, just as Merlin springs up and frantically scrambles for the sheet, gathering the fabric around his chest like a shield.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouts, trying to sound like he has every right to be snooping about in his servant’s bedchamber in the middle of the night.

Merlin scuttles up the mattress until the wall stops him from going any further. Arthur reaches out a tentative hand, but before his fingers even make contact Merlin flinches and turns away. Taken aback, Arthur watches in horror as Merlin clings tighter to the sheet, refusing to look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

Merlin’s head shoots up. “ _What’s wrong?_ I wasn’t expecting company.”  

“Well, you’ve been missing for days. I came to see where you’ve been.”

“That's very touching, Arthur, but some warning would have been nice.”

“There’s no need to be shy,” Arthur counters, becoming defensive. What had seemed like a perfectly good idea half an hour ago is rapidly becoming as unpredictable and deadly as a runaway horse. “You have nothing I haven't seen before. The knights—”

“ _Do I look like a knight?”_ Merlin shrieks, his ears going red. “Do I parade around in the sunshine, half-naked and twiddling a sword?”

“Steady on, now—”

“I don’t have that kind of physique. I don’t have sculpted muscles like you do. I’m not built that way, and I never will be!” he snaps.

“That’s not what I meant.” It’s true; despite the derogatory comments Arthur regularly makes, he doesn’t want Merlin to change. He likes his pale, slender frame and long limbs just as they are. Only he can’t say that; he can’t find the words to say he doesn’t care about the marks, only how Merlin got them.

The best he can come up with is, “We all have scars, Merlin.”

Arthur pulls at the sheet, but the fabric does not yield. Merlin’s hold is surprisingly fierce and as strong as any of his sparring partners’. They grapple for a moment, until Merlin gives up and his grip finally slackens.

“You saw it?” he croaks, still avoiding Arthur’s gaze.

“Hard not to,” Arthur confirms tentatively, waiting for Merlin’s response.

There is none.

Arthur brushes invisible lint off his trousers. This was not how his clandestine, spur of the moment visit to Merlin was supposed to go.

“Battle wounds,” he begins finally. “All knights have them. I—”

“Not like this, ” Merlin interrupts. His cheeks are scarlet and the corners of his eyes are moist. “Your scars are…” He swallows and waves his hand vaguely over his chest. “I'm… maimed now, disfigured—”

“Alive.”

Merlin stops mid sentence, his mouth open, attention diverted from maintaining his fabric barricade. Arthur uses the opportunity to whip the sheet away so that Merlin’s scar is clearly visible.

“What happened?”

The skin is red raw across the top of Merlin chest, as if he had been scalded with something… as if he were attacked. The very notion makes Arthur’s blood boil.

Some of his feelings must show in his face, because he is alarmed to see Merlin curl into a tight ball, as if trying to make himself invisible.

“Please don’t,” Merlin says.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s fingers fix firmly round Merlin’s arm. “Who did this?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Of course it bloody matters. Someone hurt you!” Arthur's voice rises, and he starts to stand.

“No, Arthur.” Merlin tugs firmly on his sleeve.

Arthur does not want to sit, and he struggles to get up but somehow can’t, which would make no sense at all, if he thought about it. But Arthur is not thinking; he’s angry and wants retribution. “I won’t have it. You’re under my protection. I will send—”

“No.”

“I think you’ve forgotten who's in charge here.” And why does it feel like Arthur is having the same conversation as the one he’d had only a few days ago? “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“There’s no point.” Merlin presses his palm into Arthur’s forearm for emphasis. “They won’t do it again. The person who did this won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

“What?”

Merlin does not reply.

“What aren't you telling me?”

“Leave it, please. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Arthur can hear the frustration in his own voice. He's always told Merlin everything, but apparently Merlin doesn't feel the same way about him.

The silence stretches out between them, and the pain of it is intolerable. A pain mirrored in Merlin’s movements; his long slender fingers bleach white as they twist and pick at the fibres of the sheet.

All battles come to an end, however, and eventually Merlin stills and answers the question:

“Can’t. Not now. I want to, believe me, and I will, one day. One day I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but not right now.”

Arthur believes him. Just like that, a door that had been slammed in his face was now unlocked, not open but pushable. Arthur could push, if he wanted; he could force the answers out of Merlin, but he would meet resistance all the way and in the end he might never get what he truly wanted.

“One day?” he repeats.

“Yes.” Merlin bites his lip, eyes wide and imploring.

“All right.” Arthur nods. “But promise me something.”

Merlin looks straight at him, the dip of his chin almost imperceptible, but significant nonetheless.

“Don’t wait forever.

You think you have time, Merlin, but you don’t, not really.” Arthur pauses debating whether to say more. He rubs his face and clears his throat, which is inexplicably dry. “Before the Questing Beast, I was considering something. I kept putting it off, because I wanted to be sure; I was waiting for the right moment and it was almost taken from me. Which is why I’m here. There’s something I’ve been meaning to do…”

It was now or never, and never could take you by surprise if you let it. He doesn’t want to have regrets, to leave the world not knowing, to have never even taken the chance.

Arthur bends down and places a delicate kiss on Merlin’s scar. He had originally planned to to kiss Merlin’s lips, of course, but he wants Merlin to realise that he finds all of him beautiful, even the damaged parts.

Merlin gasps, and Arthur pulls slowly away, gauging his reaction. Just as he is beginning to think he’s got it all wrong and messed things up spectacularly, Merlin speaks.

“You can’t kiss it better, you know; it won’t go away.”

Arthur smiles. That’s his Merlin. The man who does not back down, who argues with him –– the man he loves.

“Well, that’s just as well, because neither will I.”

This time, as he leans in to kiss Merlin again, Merlin sinks down a notch so it lands on his lips instead.

Arthur raises an eyebrow. Merlin merely shrugs and points to his mouth.

“This hurts far, far more,” he says.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely.” Merlin breaks into a wide grin, then pulls Arthur down on top of him.

Arthur is a bit hesitant at first because of the burn, but Merlin grasps his face and returns the kiss in earnest.

“This is definitely starting to have an effect, but I think I need another dose just to make sure,” he declares.

“Glad to be of service,” Arthur manages to respond.

“I feel much better. Keep this up and Gaius will be out of a job.”

Arthur snorts. “The Prince of Camelot doesn't kiss indiscriminately, Merlin, only on special occasions.”

“You think I'm special?”

“Oh, I know you are. Now shut up and take your medicine,” Arthur says, planting another kiss on Merlin’s lips and ending their conversation.

 

 

THE END

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Art only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are the original pastel drawings with no editing

[](https://imgur.com/fPHy7CZ)  [](https://imgur.com/3ZcjY6j) [](https://imgur.com/v4nD4Dk)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking a peek I hope you like what you read / saw.  
> I added a little filer to the art - just to make it look more like night time the pictures in chapter two are the originals with no editing


End file.
